I will let the desire for your sweet eyes fade,
for I can give you only the sorrow of my exhaustion.
Yet your presence is light, is life,
and in me your voice and gesture still remain.

I don’t want to have you,
only to feel you rise in me like faith in the desperate,
so I may carry a drop of dew
across this cursed land of my past.

You will go on, find another face, another hand,
bloom into the dawn
never knowing I was the one who gathered you in the night,
touching the mist and hearing your hidden voice.

I will stay alone, like ships in silent harbors,
but I will possess you in my leaving,
for the sea, the wind, the sky, the stars
will still speak with your voice
present, absent, serene.